


Mr. Student Body President

by AnxiousWithoutAPoint



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, bev is dating ben, idk soz, loosely inspired by the politician on netflix, richie is a drama major
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-04-07 19:47:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21483088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnxiousWithoutAPoint/pseuds/AnxiousWithoutAPoint
Summary: Eddie is a grade-A student in college. Richie is a shitbag who has moron friends. In Eddie's opinion. And Eddie swears that if Richie messes up his plans to become Student Body President, he's as good as dead. Except Richie is also running. Oh fucking no.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 5
Kudos: 17





	1. Hey! I spent a dollar on that!

Eddie scowled at the wall. It’s wasn’t an unusual occurrence, unfortunately. The first week in, he mapped out every thin crack splintering the paint and every bump where the paint has dried too thickly. He ran his finger over the wall, white paint that grayed with age, flaking off. He could hear laughing and giggling, a girl shrieking playfully and someone’s name being shouted. Still scowling, he turned his attention to his phone and opened Instagram, clicking on Stan’s icon.

**Eddie: Tell Richie and the rest of his gang to shut the fuck up**

**Stan: Sorry he’s being a dickhead**   
**Stan: One second**

Eddie indulged in a smug smile as Stan’s voice cut through the ragged symphony of people talking. It became quieter and he tugged the duvet above his head, drifting off to the sound of Bill tapping away at his keyboard. Mike’s muffled voice suddenly spouted from his bed over in the corner.  
“Did you _really_ text Stan again?”  
Eddie yanked the covers off of himself and fixed Mike with a glare that says _You know I did._ Mike sighed and turned back to his notes from Business lectures. Eddie knew exactly what he had that day so that Mike wouldn’t forget. It was one of the very limited skills he possessed; being neat and orderly.  
“Fine but when Tozier comes to tease you again tomorrow morning, don’t blame me.”  
“Fuck Tozier.”  
“Good idea. It might loosen you up a bit. Calm your nerves.”  
Eddie tried to come up with a retort that’s wasn’t “Fuck you.” and spectacularly failed. So, instead, he locked his jaw, and once again, hauled the duvet back over his head, determined to ignore the steadily rising level of noise coming from next door.

~~~

Eddie woke as he always did, to the persisting shrill of his alarm. He changed into jeans and a t-shirt, simple and clean, parting his hair to match. Sorting out his bag, he grabbed a cereal bar from the dressing table next to Bill as he groggily complained about the racket Eddie was making. Both he and Mike were still tucked under their covers, opting for mostly afternoon classes. Eddie involuntarily scoffed as Bill groaned and drew the blanket up further until only his forehead could be seen. He fussed around in the bathroom some more, applying some gel to his hair and brushing his teeth for exactly 3 minutes. Eddie then opened the door at exactly 7 am, ready to pace to class, pausing briefly for coffee, and arrive at 7:30.  
However, he didn’t fit the hungover beanpole, spread out in his way, into his schedule; therefore, promptly tripping over it. Or rather, him.  
“What the fuck…oh hey, Eds.”  
“Don’t call me that,” Eddie had found himself splayed over Richie’s thighs, dazed from the sudden change in schedule. He glanced around the pasty halls, dappled with weak sunlight before returning his watch to Tozier. “‘The fuck are you doing out here?”  
“Well, Spaghetti-”  
“Don’t call m-”  
“I was out partying-”  
“You were literally in when I went to bed.”  
“You go to bed at 8 pm. Some of us are trying to live a little. As I was saying before I wa-”  
“I do live. I just don’t sing loudly with my moron friends.”  
“You don’t have any friends.”  
“Ouch, what a burn. Would’ve expected more from you, Tozier.”  
Eddie glowered at his easy grin, clenching his jaw as a refusal to concede to laughter. Eventually, Richie sighed, causing Eddie to lose his balance from where he was draped over Richie’s legs. He hurriedly stood up, a furious blush evident on his cheeks as he brushed off imaginary dust from his shoulders.  
Richie looked up at him, cheekbones cutting into porcelain skin, his lips chapped and parted as he tried to produce a coherent sentence.  
“Long story short, I went out for some drinks with a couple of my _moron friends_, lost my key, felt tired. Next thing I knew, I woke up to you sitting on my lap-”  
“I wasn’t sitting on your lap, Richie, I was-” Richie waved dismissively at him before taking the hand back to rake through the bird’s nest permanently residing on his head, the curls by his ears poking out at odd angles.  
“Now, look, are you gonna help me up or not?”  
Eddie let out a frustrated groan, before locking their hands together. Richie’s hands dwarfed his, fingers long and spindly, each fingertip a degree of freezing. Eddie tried not to dwell on the thought of what it would feel like to hold his hand for longer.  
Now that Richie stood up, he was unbelievably, and frustratingly, taller. Eddie pressed his lips into a thin line as Richie leaned back against the wall, stuffing his hands into his pockets. _Is he checking me out?_  
“I gotta go-”  
“Ah yes, the early classes. Psychology, was it?”  
“Yeah. How did yo-”  
“If it starts at 7:30, you better hurry.”  
Eddie checked his phone lock screen. It read 7:20 a.m.  
“Shit! Shit shit shit sh-”  
“See you around, Eds.”  
“Hopefully not.”  
The last thing Eddie heard before he hastily jogged down the stairs is Richie's laugh, drawn-out and sweet. He wished he didn’t like it so much.  
As Eddie continuously jogged to class, he racked his brain for a time when he told Richie his classes, not even when they started. What’s more, he couldn’t even remember what Richie’s schedule was; he knew what everyone’s schedule was. He came up with nothing as he swung through the door and slid into an empty seat, just as the professor started talking.  
_Richie Tozier, you are going to get on my nerves._, he thought before taking notes.

~~~

Eddie stopped at the coffee shop after his lecture and greeted Beverly with a warm smile through the window. She returned the gesture, tucking stray pieces of fiery hair behind her ear.  
Beverly could always calm his nerves, ever since he first met her in Marville’s coffee shop. Her personality fit the warm buzz of the place, decked out in fairy lights and squishy, brown sofas dotted about. Unfortunately, she went out with Richie’s roommate, Ben, so he didn’t get to see a lot of her outside of Marville’s.  
The September winds battled against the comfort of the long scarf he was buried in so he had no doubt his cheeks were tinted pink as he entered. As soon as he did, Beverly’s eyes lit up and she stretched over the counter.  
“The usual, sir?”  
“Yeah, but for the last time, just call me Eddie.”  
Beverly smirked over her shoulder before turning her attention back to the coffee, adding in exactly 3 teaspoons of sugar, just the way he liked it. She worked her way across the counter and Eddie watched her, glad to have a distraction from the mindless buzzing thoughts in his head, all centering Richie.  
She pulled on the cup lid and handed it over, grinning at his dramatic sigh of relief. He blew on it and was about to take a sip when Beverly started speaking.  
“Why are you later today? You literally never come late, I was worried.”  
“Tozier.”  
“Ah.” Beverly nodded her head knowingly as if that explained it all.  
“He was locked out of his apartment and I tripped over him, gracefully landing in his lap.”  
Beverly laughed at that, her freckled nose wrinkling.  
“He could’ve just texted Ben. God, I swear, he’s so damn stupid.”  
“I strongly agree.” Eddie sipped his coffee for a few more minutes as they talked about Ben and Stan and how awful it must be to have Richie as a roommate before Bev glanced behind him and started spluttering into her hand, eyes wide.  
“Speak of the devil.” She whispered as he followed her gaze. Sauntering towards them, his hair a disheveled mess and glasses crooked, was Richie.  
“Black coffee, my good lady.” He said in a horrible British accent. Beverly just rolled her eyes and embarked on preparing the drink, muttering about how weird he was.  
He then turned to Eddie and hooked two fingers into his scarf and pulled it off, leaving Eddie’s neck bare. Eddie was startled, to say the least, but schooled his expression into something more sullen as Richie grinned down at him. Eddie quickly snatched it back, tucking it under his coat sleeve.  
“How was Psychology?”  
“Um fine I-I, how did you know I had Psychology?” Richie simply shrugged with infuriated Eddie further.  
“Worked it out. I know how long it takes to get to lectures as I like to time myse-”  
“Of course you do.”  
“And then I know you get coffee. Bev told me. I also timed that so I work-”  
“This is getting stalkerish.”  
“So I worked it out, checked out the classes and came to the conclusion that you must have Psychology. Plus it suits you.”  
He brought up his hand to brush Eddie’s cheek then, a fond smile dancing on his lips. Eddie batted his hand away, his expression somewhere between a scowl and _What the fuck are you doing?_. He hoped there’s no_ Please do that again_ in his expression as he glanced away to hide the blush. Eventually, Eddie looked back, not entirely surprised to find Richie’s eyes still trained on him, magnified by his glasses. Eddie glowered at him, before dignifying it with a response, wishing his curiosity didn’t get the best of him.  
“What a perfectly good waste of your time.”  
“I think it was a brilli-”  
“Here’s your coffee, Richie.” Beverly pushed the cup towards him and Richie removed the lid before gulping down the burning contents. Eddie and Beverly watched on in undisguised horror.  
“Well, this has been an honor. Bev, Spaghetti.”  
“Don’t call-” The words died on his tongue as Richie swiftly exited, a smirk plastered on his face as he strolled by the window, an orange glow illuminating the tips of his wispy hair.  
Eddie turned back to Beverly, a sympathetic smile directed at him.  
“How do you cope with that on a daily basis?” he questioned, his eyebrow pulled tautly as he drank more of his coffee.  
“Lots of alcohol.” She sighed before addressing the next customer standing in line.

~~~

When Eddie got back from lessons, he tiredly opened the door and flopped down on his bed, his mouth pulling into a frown when he heard a thump on his wall. Lots of cheering and whooping ensued. He knew that Stan still had a class, Agriculture, and wouldn’t be back for another hour or so, depending on if he stopped by Marville’s to talk to Bev.  
Eddie focused on tidying his bedsheets, a beige color he, Bill and Mike all had enveloping their beds. They had gone shopping together the first day they moved in (Bill’s idea) and had found the duvets for half price. Broke college students couldn’t be choosers. It also gave them time to become more or less friends, Eddie learning about Bill’s younger brother, Georgie, and Mike’s grandfather’s farm. In return, they found out about Eddie’s overbearing mother and why he was taking Psychology.  
Eddie adjusted every poster of his that looked out of place, including a small piece of paper that displayed ‘Future Plans’ and made sure all of his coursework was done and aptly folded into his bag. He then sat down at his desk, willing to finish his Psychology work before it got too late, unsuccessfully ignoring the crashes and squeak of springs from next door.  
He glowered at the wall as more thumping shook his desk and knocked over a pot full of pens. And then moaning.  
“Ohh Eddie just like that. _Yes_ _yes yes_. Don’t fucking stop. YES.”  
The voice was unmistakably Richie’s, and Eddie fumed as a rumble of laughter erupted from the other side of the wall.  
Eddie stood up, his chair roughly staggering back, as he got his shoes from under the bed, having taken them off when he got in. They were black sneakers will rainbow laces but he barely had time to register what he was doing before he was standing in the open doorway. Everyone twisted towards him, Richie ignoring his presence still. He had a pillow held up to his neck and his eyes closed, exaggeratedly biting his lip. When he finally realized that everyone was quiet, he peeked out of one eye, his face contorting into a wide, flashy grin. Eddie stared him down but Richie just slung an arm around the boy sitting next to him and pouted. The boy to his left stared down at his hand disgustedly, taking one nail-varnished finger and sweeping his hand off his striped jumper. Eddie decided he liked him as he flashed Eddie an apologetic smile.  
Richie grumbled. “Fine, have it your way, Ben.” as Ben sighed at him. _Oh, so that’s Ben._ Eddie thought.  
“So, Spaghetti, what brings you here?” Richie had now made his way across the room and overshadowed Eddie in the cheap dorm lighting. Everyone was curiously staring at them now, probably wondering if Eddie was going to explode. He, in fact, was not. For once.  
Eddie inhaled quickly and clenched his jaw. “Was that pillow supposed to be me?”  
“Bit short but yeah.” Richie grinned at him queasily, like he wasn’t sure if he should continue this facade or not.  
_If he had more than one brain cell_, Eddie thought, _he would understand that the answer was no._  
“Tozier, what the fuck?” Eddie looked at him, repulsed, and marched towards the sofa, snatching the pillow and walking out of the room.  
“Hey! I spent a dollar on that!” Richie paced after him, catching Eddie’s door just before it shut. “I’m sorry, okay? It was a joke. ‘Didn’t mean to upset you.”  
Eddie was silent for a moment, still prodding at the DocMarten caught in the door.  
“I’ll give you it back if you answer one question.”  
“Fine.” Richie huffed, his forehead resting on the door with a _thud_.  
“Oh and no more pretending it’s me.”  
“Only if I can get the real deal.” Eddie could hear Richie’s grin in his words.  
“Nah, you couldn’t handle it. I scowl too much, way more than this pillow.”  
“I think it’s cute.” Richie sounded teasing but there was a hint of sweetness that made Eddie’s stomach flutter.  
“Stop distracting me. I’m trying to think of a question.” Eddie paused briefly, "Ok, got one."  
“Shoot.”  
“Why me?”  
“Why you what?” Richie tried to sneak a glance through the small opening but Eddie shoved the door back so it hit his nose. “_OUCH._”  
“You still haven’t answered my question.”  
“You’re mean.” Richie retorted nasally, nudging his foot further into Eddie’s room.  
“Still think you can handle it?”  
“Uh-huh. Why do you think I’ve been flirting with you?”  
“That’s what it was?”  
“Shut up. I’m great at flirting. But you, you’re kinda immune.”  
“Because I don’t instantly want to bone you?”  
“Yup.”  
“God, you’re so egotistical.”  
“I know.”  
Richie’s phone buzzed in his pocket. Eddie watched through the crack as he slid it out of his black jeans and swiped quickly across the screen, his long fingers nimble as he opened Instagram. “Stan wants to know if I’m annoying you.”  
Eddie was quiet, pondering whether he was annoyed or not.  
“Oh and Stan says Bev wants to know if you want one of the Gingerbread lattes tomorrow. Ooh, count me in.”  
For a few moments, only Richie tapping could be heard. _Admit it, you kinda enjoyed this._  
“No and yes.” Eddie squeezed his eyes shut, curling a hand around the door.  
“In that order?”  
Eddie ground out a “Yes.”  
“I take this as a win. I’m gonna go back and hope to God that my room is not wrecked because Stan will kill me.”  
“Wait!” Eddie opened the door fully, as Richie nonchalantly spun on his heel. “You didn’t answer my question,” He paused briefly, shifting his glance to the side then back, “Why me? Why do you keep flirting with me or pretending a pillow is me or always teasing me?”  
Richie stared at him curiously as if he hadn’t figured it out already.  
“Because I like you.”  
Then, he was gone, swept into the rambunctious throng of people and the heavy beat of music that was already starting up.

~~~

Bitter winds nearly swept Eddie away as he contended with the wad of papers in his arms, some of them nearly blowing away from the mere force of strong gales. Eddie grumbled. The only good thing about the colder months was Christmas but that felt like ages away. He ducked his head as he entered the juxtaposing calmness of the block where he had Medicine Studies. He walked past the Drama classroom and wasn’t entirely surprised to find Richie waving animatedly at him, nearly whacking Bev in the face as he did so. He could just see Richie turn around to cringe and express his apologies before his vision was cut off by a chunk of sandy stone. Of fucking course Richie was a Drama major. That explained a_ lot_. Still, he smiled to himself that Richie had noticed him.  
Medicine was boring as usual but it helped him understand.  
When Eddie was younger, his mother had given him placebos for pills he didn’t need. His childhood was constantly plagued with visits to the doctor. By the fourth or fifth time they went, Eddie could see that the doctor was fed up. When he was old enough to understand, the doctor told him about the placebos. At age 17, he argued with his mother until he was hoarse from shouting and vowed never to return to the house where she had manipulated and trapped him. In all honesty, Eddie didn’t like being reminded of it. He had no childhood friends, no happy memories, nothing that didn’t orbit his mother or doctors. But it intrigued him. It was the same reason he took Psychology. To understand why. Placebos only make you think it’s working when it’s not. They learned about the Illusory Truth Effect in the second week of Psychology. If a lie is repeated enough from a familiar mouth, you will believe it. And he got it.  
After class, Eddie peeked through the window to the drama classroom, wondering if he should wait for Bev (and Richie, although he would never admit to it) but it was empty. Probably in the Auditorium. Bev had told him, through one of their many morning chats over overpriced coffee, that they were practicing carrying their voices over a distance. Richie had obviously aced it. They also were reading Hamlet which is why Richie put on a stupid British accent. _So stupid. So perfectly stupid._  
Eddie decided to go find them. The Auditorium was only around the corner anyway. He made his way through the expectedly empty corridors, his rubber soles squeaking obtrusively on the glossy, wood flooring. One of the things he enjoyed about College was that there was no chewed gum glued to the flooring or under desks. Everything was neat and clean like it was brand new.  
Postbox red lockers bordered the corridor and Eddie ran his hand along them, rattling the slacked hinges. Turning the corner, he peered through one of the gaping windows of the Auditorium doors. Eddie easily spotted Richie projecting his voice to another student, although not on stage, which earned a glare from the teacher. Eddie figured he may as well wait outside until the class had ended and caught Bev’s eye to give her a curt nod; she, in turn, gave him a thumbs up. Swinging his left leg over his right, Eddie came to rest against Locker 302 and stared at the notice board directly in front of him, humming ‘Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds’. In the center, almost jumping out at him, was a large poster. It was in blue and red, the school colors, with a bold font reading** ‘Do You Want To Be The Next Student Body President?’** and finer details printed underneath. Eddie stopped humming.


	2. Messily orchestrated charm with a perfect outcome

Eddie ran his finger over the shiny lettering, reading off the email of who he should contact, quickly memorizing it. This could be a chance to prove himself. The first step to whatever the fuck he was gonna do when he was older. Finally, people would know who he was. He wasn’t caged by his mother. He could actually do this.   
When Richie and Bev got out of class, he giddily smiled at them, barely relishing Richie’s toothy grin back at him as he   
“What’s made you so happy, Eddie?” Bev’s eyebrows dropped in curiosity. They were walking out of the building and it was a rare day when the sun was shining. The trees had been rid of their leaves but flushed sunlight slipped through the branches and danced on the grass in twisted patterns. Richie was in his usual DocMartens and Hawaiian shirt, his hair a constant mess, as he swung his arms around his gangly body. Bev was in overalls and a striped jumper and looked relaxed, her cheeks still flushed pink from stage nerves; Eddie understood that. Students were milling around, hoping to make the most of the sun, and Eddie felt on top of the world.   
“Oh, nothing.” he sighed with an air of delight and started humming a ditty tune.   
“Probably finally got laid.” Richie murmured to Bev, laughter lacing his tone.   
Eddie stopped and twisted around from where he was sauntering in front of them, Richie’s torso hitting into Eddie abruptly. The grin on his face quickly slipped as Eddie settled him with a withering glare.   
“I could’ve.” Eddie retorted defensively, sticking his chin out. Okay so maybe he hadn’t slept with a guy yet. And he hadn’t dated one either. But that was his mother’s fault, not his. Of course, he wasn’t going to say this.   
“I don’t doubt it.” Richie snarked, adjusting his glasses and rocking back on his heels.   
“You don’t think I could get laid,” Eddie stated but posed it more as a question, folding his arms over his chest.   
“I know you couldn’t get laid.”   
“Why not?” Anger bubbled in Eddie’s chest, replacing the light feeling he’d had moments ago, as Richie fired back insults casually.   
“Maybe if you removed the pole up your ass, you could finally get dicked down,” Richie said it tiredly but there was a fire in his eyes like he meant every word.   
“I’m sorry I don’t sleep with every single person I come across. Maybe I should just be a whore like you.” Eddie fumed. He wanted to cry. No, he wanted to scream. And some part of him wanted to tell Richie he didn’t mean it. Not in the slightest. But he stood his ground and so did Richie.   
“God, why are you even doing this? Just go and complain to Stan about me like you always do.” Eddie could see the hurt in his eyes and it was dampening the flames. He desperately wanted to hug Richie. He didn’t mean any of this to happen. How the fuck did it get out of hand so rapidly?  
Bev was still standing there awkwardly. Her short hair fell over her eyes in burnt curls, her gaze fixed on her navy nail varnish. She was set on picking it off and pretending like she wasn’t there. Eddie felt sorry for her.   
“You know what? Fuck you. I don’t know why I even bothered.” Eddie willed himself to stop talking, desperately trying to telepathically apologize to Richie.   
“Right back at you.” Richie spat, more furious than Eddie had ever seen him.   
Then, with a final glower, Richie turned around and walked in the opposite direction, holding his middle finger up high. There was no casual saunter to his walk, it was stiff and rigid. Maybe he’s got a pole up his ass Eddie sniffed, his shoulders drooping anyway.   
Bev shuffled closer as Richie slammed the dorm block door behind him and the dark clouds rolled over.   
How convenient. Eddie thought as large raindrops splashed onto his head. 

~~~

Eddie didn’t talk to Richie for the next week. He was too busy anyway. Of course, that didn’t mean that he wasn’t thinking of Richie when he emailed the Chancellor for Student Body President or got Bill to help him make the posters or hang out with Bev at the coffee shop. It just meant he didn’t speak to him. As much as he may have wanted to.   
And when he heard Richie’s obnoxious laughter drifting through the wall, he didn’t complain to Stan. Because that’s what he always did. Instead, he just suffocated himself with his pillow, muffling the happiness exuding from the other side of the wall. Much easier.   
On Tuesday, while peering at Bill’s laptop with tired eyes, Bill had questioned him about Richie. They were choosing suitable fonts and which color would match Eddie’s feature image on the poster when Bill swiveled round in his desk chair.   
“You seen Richie l-lately?” He could feel Bill’s eyes boring into the side of his face but refused to look at him and keep staring at the poster, training his eyes on the bold letters at the bottom of the screen.   
“Nope.” He knew that Bill hung around with Richie. He didn’t know who Bill had a crush on exactly- Stan, Bev, Ben or even Richie himself- but he knew Bill well enough to know that he did have a crush. Eddie knew that Bill wanted them to hang out as a group, especially since Mike had also started hanging out with their dorm neighbors as well. But Eddie’s pride stood in the way. Bill knew this, obviously.   
“Stan says he’s m-moping.”   
On cue, a pop song burst to life in what Eddie presumed were speakers.   
“Doesn’t sound like it.”  
“Y-you know he thrives from attention. It’s p-probably a cover-up. Stan says he hasn’t eaten anything except Lucky Charms for the past few days. And apparently, he l-listens to, and I quote, ‘sad, trashy music’ when you leave for class.”  
“Coincidence.” Eddie folded his arms under his head on the desk and slumped with a heavy exhale. He could practically feel Bill roll his eyes.   
“Coincidence isn’t a word to Richie. It’s always messily orchestrated ch-charm with a perfect outcome.”  
Eddie sighed again, dramatically, turning his head to look at the door. Bill watched him for a few more moments and then turned back to the laptop and started moving text around. He knew Bill was judging him and Eddie didn’t blame him, but he was also giving him space; something he loved about Bill.   
Eddie removed himself from his slump and watched Bill’s fingers slide across the keypad, ignoring the raised eyebrow he received. Eddie was bored with passive-aggressively fighting with Bill. And he knew exactly how to turn the attention onto Bill.   
“So you’re crushing on Stan?” 

~~~

On Wednesday, Eddie went to see Bev as usual. It was only mid-October but Marville’s was already decked out with spindly faux spider webs and luminous pumpkins with grimaces etched into them. The cushions on the couches had white ghosts patterned onto black and miniature witches hung from the ceiling by their pointed hats.   
“Ugh, I hate Halloween at College.” Bev groaned, propping her elbow on the counter so several glittery bangles collected at the end of her forearm.   
“Hello to you too.”  
Bev shot him a sarcastic smile and started preparing his drink before continuing to speak.   
“Everyone wears costumes that are purposefully revealing, even though Halloween is for kids, and use it as an excuse to do something batshit crazy or dumb.” Bev turned around with his drink, “Speaking of dumb, have you seen Richie this week?”  
“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Eddie propped himself up on a stool and twirled the strings of his grey hoodie. It was the one he wore when he first came to College, the day he’d left that wretched house behind. It had rainbow stripes up the sleeves. His Mom looked disgusted but he just grinned bitterly at her and closed the front door. Bill and Mike had asked if he was gay when they went shopping together and he told them the truth. They were fine with it and Bill even admitted that he wasn’t completely straight. Everyone who saw him that day, including his dorm neighbors, got the memo. Including Richie.   
“Look, ever since your fight, he’s had this damper to his mood. Last night, I’d never seen him look so miserable.”  
“But I heard music.” Eddie leaned forward cautiously like he didn’t want to be caught out for caring how Richie felt.   
“Yeah, I put it on. I tried to get him to dance but it was half-hearted. He wouldn’t even come out to smoke with me later. He never turns down a cigarette.” Her eyebrows knitted together in thought, recollecting the night.  
“Very classy.”  
“Shut up.” She swatted at him before her expression turned to something more earnest, “He seriously likes you and both of you fucked up.”  
“I know. Bev hooked an eyebrow, “I know.”   
Bev didn’t push him any further. She didn’t need to. Now he just needed to figure out how to deal with his pride. 

~~~

It was 11 pm and Eddie should’ve been in bed but he was in the block where he did Psychology classes. When he’d grabbed his keys and announced that he was going out, Bill and Mike shot each other confused looks before looking back at him with perplexion.   
“I do have a social life.” Eddie lied. Bill and Mike hadn’t look convinced.   
Outside, the wind was harsh and Eddie was only wearing a purple hoodie and shorts, constant shivers running up his spine. A couple of students walked by, clearly high as one stifled a giggle in the other one’s leather jacket. The one wearing the leather jacket was tall and had her hair sliced into a neat bob, the same shade as her black lipstick. The other one, who was unable to contain her laughter and so was laughing towards the thickets of dark clouds, had a short green dress on and thick eyeliner.  
He remembered them from one of Richie’s parties he had stormed into. They were making out on the kitchen counter, in amongst the red plastic cups and rainbow streamers. Richie had pointed at them and then motioned to Eddie and himself, wiggling his eyebrows. Eddie had kicked him in the shin and walked back out the door, switching off the music as he did so.   
Currently, Eddie was blu-tacking his campaign posters to the walls. He felt obnoxiously vain. His face was plastered on all of them, a faint red glow behind him. But at least there was a photo of him.  
One afternoon the week before, Eddie was complaining to Bev about his campaign photo. “I haven’t even got a photo, never mind a slogan. How the fuck am I gonna do this?” They had decided to sit down at Marville’s and had found themselves on a sofa in the back corner, Eddie slumped into the cushions and Bev perched on the armrest beside him, one leg propped over the other. The Halloween decorations had been taken down and in their place, fairy lights were pinned around the walls, hanging down to the sofas; like something from a Pinterest board. Blankets were folded over the chairs, brightly patterned in shades of crimsons, golds, and peaches. “Ben does photography.” Bev had said it casually, frowning in thought as she picked at the laces of her scuffed boots. “In his spare time.” She added after a moment. Eddie had perked up and interrogated her for his details, quickly hurrying to his next class when he’d checked the time.   
That Friday, Ben had arrived at Eddie’s dorm with his camera and a tripod. Eddie wondered if he had other plans after, if he was going out with his friends to some club like a normal college student and if one of those friends was Richie. He hastily put those thoughts aside as he sat on a chair and tried his best ‘I’m reliable and approachable’ face. He had tried to dress up nice with a smart checkered shirt buttoned up to the top and hair gel neatly folding his hair down. Ben had grinned at him before squinting into the camera. They chatted in between takes, about Architecture classes and Psychology and Bev. Eddie found out that Ben also secretly loved writing and made Eddie promise not to tell Bev. She’d “beg him to write a thousand love letters.”. Eddie knew Ben well enough by that point to know that he would write all of the thousand love letters.  
Eventually, Ben seemed satisfied and told Eddie he would send the photos to him. “Hey, um, if you want to come get drinks with us, you can,” he said, hesitantly, giving him a shy smile. Ben looked as though he was bracing himself for rejection. “Will Richie be there?” Eddie knew that he probably would be but he asked anyway. “Yeah.” He guessed that Ben already knew and politely declined before opening the door and exchanging goodbyes.   
The wind rattled the doors, glass panes displaying the vast expanse of darkness outside. Eddie finished lining the walls with his posters and stepped back to admire his work, when the doors slammed against the walls, a figure staggering in. Richie.   
“I’m drunker than I thought I was.” Richie chuckled and leaned back against the door, “There’s like,” He stopped and snorted, before spreading his arms out in a gesture, “Wayyyy more of you.”   
Eddie ignored him and pointedly stared at the wall, keeping his face expressionless.   
“Aww Eds, I’m sorry I was mean t’ you.” Eddie kept ignoring him, “Spaghetti?”   
“It’s Eddie.” Eddie turned to face Richie, taking in his scraggly hair and faded band t-shirt, his eyelids drooping and the drunk smile on his face.   
“Eddie Spaghetti, well ’m sorry. I miss that face too m’ch to be mad atchu anym’re.”   
Richie dived in to pinch his cheeks but the movements were slow and Eddie had no trouble catching his wrists, the leather and beaded bracelets sloping down his arm.   
“Why are you here?”   
“Monologuing. Gotta practice ‘n’ all that.” His words were sloppy. “W’nna come with?”   
“I’m taking you back to your dorm,” Eddie replied firmly, pushing him towards the exit. Richie made no protest and complied with Eddie’s gentle shoving.  
One outside, Richie was silent but wrapped an arm around Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie hoped he could support both their weight if Richie was going to fall over.   
A breath of wind brushed coldly past Eddie and he shivered, goosebumps prickling on his skin.   
“You cold, Sp’gh’tti? Take m’ jack’t.” Richie shrugged his coat off and carefully wrapped it around Eddie’s shoulders. He could instantly feel the heat as it circulated through the thin material of his hoodie. Richie lazily smiled at him and then faced forward again, the wind whipping his hair back, the moon painting his skin a dusty white.   
“Thanks.”   
They walked in silence for a while, Richie tilting every so often so that Eddie’s reflexes made him instantaneously thrust his arms out in case he fell.   
Eventually, Eddie sighed deeply.  
“I’m sorry.”   
“What for?”  
“Calling you a whore.”  
Richie snorted. Drunk Richie seemed to laugh a lot.   
“I am a whore though.” Richie’s words seemed to slur less, the fuzziness behind his eyes clearing.  
“No, you’re not.”   
“No, I’m not.” Richie exhaled quickly, “Fun fact: I don’t sleep with as many people as others believe.” He sounded hyper, his limbs flailing about, trying to keep up with the energy of his voice. But when Eddie looked at him, Richie’s eyes projected countless sorrows. It reminded him of a broken clockwork toy.   
Persisting against the harsh puffs of wind, they walked on with the soundtrack of 11:07 pm wilderness surrounding them. The park looked different in the night, dark shadows splintering the emerald shades of grass woven into dirt. Trees became wrecks of hideaways for the true demons. Eddie looked away.   
Minutes past and they were soon to be reaching their dorms when Richie swiveled his head to look at Eddie.  
“I’m sorry for saying you have a pole up your ass.”  
“No, you’re right. I’m uptight.”  
“It was still mean. Plus, lots of people want to ‘dick you down’” Richie smiled tenderly at him, air quoting with his fingers.   
Eddie smiled back.   
“Is this you calling me hot?”  
“Maybe,” Richie smirked, leaning back into a casual position as he walked. It was so Richie. Eddie had never felt so relieved.   
When they arrived at their doors, Eddie didn’t know what to say. They’d spent the past three minutes flirting and now he felt shy.   
“You can keep it if you want.”  
“What?”   
“The jacket.” Eddie realized he was still clutching onto the dark and worn denim blanketing his shoulders.   
“Oh. Thanks.” Eddie looked up at Richie for a moment, catching his intense gaze and holding it.   
Richie looked away first, his cheeks tinted red.   
“Goodnight Eds.”  
Richie twisted around to open his door. Just do it. It’s now or never. Eddie tapped him on the shoulder.   
“Yeah?”   
Eddie surged forward and kissed him. It wasn’t particularly long but Richie’s hand cupped his waist and Eddie instantly wrapped his arms around Richie’s neck. Eddie felt on cloud nine. When they resurfaced, Richie gave him a small smile, tinged with nervousness. Eddie understood exactly how he felt. It meant I like you. Can we do this again? Eddie pressed a kiss to his cheek to say Definitely and unraveled himself from Richie’s arms.  
“Goodnight Richie.” He slipped inside hastily, grinning blissfully to himself as he leaned against the other side of the door.   
When he opened his eyes, Mike and Bill were watching him carefully, trying to extract all the details just from his face.   
“Ok s-so tell us why you and Richie have both come in at the exact same time?” Bill blurted out, excitement dancing in his eyes. His phone was open on text. Dammit Stan. 

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi I haven't really looked over this so apologies for any mistakes but on another note, it's nearly Christmas currently and I'm really excited :)


	3. I believe you've met Mr. Tozier?

Eddie woke up on Saturday, a week later, feeling refreshed. He had a reduced amount of homework compared to most weeks and was not waking up to the incessant shrill of the alarm; he really hated alarms. Instead, he listened to the gentle clicks of the typewriter, briefly pausing for a moment before resuming. A curbed whir came from far away, increasingly insistent, from what Eddie presumed was the microwave. Leisurely, he wriggled out of the bedcovers and rubbed his eyes, greeted with a nod from Bill as he tipped the dregs of his cup into his mouth. Eddie closed his eyes with a yawn and heard the continuation of tapping.   
“Where’s Mike?” Eddie asked, the question stumbling into another yawn.   
“Sitting room,” Bill replied without looking up from where he was making notes on a piece of lined paper.   
Eddie nodded, hoping that Bill could sense it, and sat up in his bed, his gaze drawn to the small sitting room they shared.   
In the far corner was the mini-fridge, the microwave placed precariously on top of it, the inside lit up to display ramen. Matted pillows sunk into the couches that circled a striped rug. Mike lounged on one of the couches, his eyes trained on the microwave. He twisted around when Eddie entered and motioned for him to sit.   
“Hey, so, Bill and I are going next door tonight. It’s just gonna be a small crowd. Bev’s gonna be there as well. Wanna come? You and Richie seem...closer.”  
Albeit, it was true. In the hallways, Richie snuck glances at Eddie as he passed now, his hands dug into his pockets. Eddie did the same. Bev shoved Richie teasingly when she thought Eddie couldn’t see. And mercilessly taunted Eddie when he came in for his coffee. After his third class on a Wednesday, Eddie would purposefully pass the Drama classroom and pretend not to notice as Richie stared at him. And sometimes, Richie would come over with Stan and sit on their couch, his arms stretched across the back of the couch. He would lean back and shout into the bedroom where Eddie sat at his desk, whining at him as Stan rolled his eyes. Eventually, Eddie would give in and slide in next to him, shuffling his revision cards. Surprisingly, Richie was incredibly smart and could help him with homework for classes he didn’t even take. This frustrated Eddie to no end. But in a good way.   
Mike seemed unsure he would take the offer. His eyebrows were knitted together and his mouth twisted into a frown. But Eddie had nothing on. Obviously. Plus, it would satisfy Mike and Bill.   
“Ok, what time?” Eddie sat sideways on the couch, facing Mike, one leg tucked under his other dangling leg.  
Mike just gawked at him.   
“You’re gonna come?”   
“Yeah, why not?”   
Mike’s face still was pulled downwards, a mix of suspicion and curiosity.   
“You said it yourself, Richie and I are closer. I like everyone there. So,” Eddie sighed and watched and Mike’s face morphed into something more relaxed, “What time?”  
“7:30. Dude, I’m excited.” Abruptly, the microwave pinged and the whirring came to a stop. Mike stood up and yanked the microwave door open, grabbing the pot noodle.   
“Why wouldn’t you be? The life of the party is coming.”   
Mike just chuckled and nodded.

~~~

At precisely 7:30, Eddie was at Richie, Stan and Ben’s door, tapping his foot nervously. He’d tried to dress casually but with subtle tones of endeavor. For example, his shirt was an old one, plain and red, the hem threadbare. He figured friends didn’t exactly dress formally when visiting each other. However, he’d made an extra effort with his hair and had retrieved a bottle of hair mousse from the back of the bathroom cabinet. Applying copiously, Eddie had managed to tame his hair into loose curls that fell over his forehead. He liked it.   
Eddie bit his lip, still persistently tapping his foot. He could hear footsteps and amble chatter inside, Richie’s voice rising above everyone else’s. Quietly, he knocked twice, rocking on the balls of his feet. He was wearing his sneakers but had cleaned them so he figured that was contributing some kind of effort. No answer. He knocked louder, three raps, and was about to knock again when Richie opened the door. Eddie’s fist was an inch away from Richie’s chest and he brought it back hurriedly.   
“Spaghetti? What are you doing here?” Richie was dressed like he was every day. He had an ACDC t-shirt on with ripped, skinny jeans and his DocMartins. Leather bracelets slid down his wrist as he leaned his elbow against the doorframe. He looked genuinely perplexed.   
“Um, Mike invited me.” Richie didn’t say anything, just stared, pressing his lips together, “I can go, if yo-”  
“No, stay. Please.” He instantly jerked forward, signs of worry creasing his face.  
Richie looked as nervous as Eddie felt.   
“Ok.” Eddie gave him a shy smile and slipped past him as Richie pressed back against the doorframe.  
Once inside, Eddie saw that he was the second one there, after the residents. Bill was at his shift at McDonald's and would be arriving slightly later and Mike was finishing an essay and told Eddie to leave without him. Of course, Bev was there first. He’d last seen her in the Coffee Shop at 7:00 on his way home from a lecture and she must’ve gone straight to the dorm room like usual. She was still wearing the fishnet tights and shimmery black top, a plaid shirt tied around her waist and dangling over her denim skirt.   
“Eddie! You came! Finally.” Bev sauntered over, her words drawn out to exaggerate. She slung an arm around him and squeezed him into her, an aroma of jasmine and cigarette smoke.   
Eddie watched as she took a drag of the cigarette still smoking between her chewed nails and passed it to Richie, who also inhaled from it like it was the thing that was going to save him and not kill him. Bev noticed him staring and flicked him gently, releasing herself from where Eddie had automatically curled his arm around her.  
“What? Old habits die hard.” She called out over her shoulder as Richie nodded and stubbed the remaining ashes, “Now, who’s ready to watch Back To The Future?” 

~~~

There were not enough seats on the couches in their dorm. Not enough to comfortably sit side by side anyway. Eddie was surprised. Whenever he’d come over the rant at Richie, there’d always been at least 20 people there. There again, a lot of people stood. Or sat on the kitchen bench. Or sat on other people. Which was exactly what they were doing.   
Bev sat on Ben’s knee with space for Mike to the left of them on The Green Couch With The Springs. Stan complained that they were still enough seats but Bev just blew him a kiss and wrapped her arms tightly around Ben; he just grinned. The 3-seater aka The Squishy Purple Couch was where Richie, Bill, and Eddie were going to sit, although Richie joked that Eddie could sit on his lap. Eddie elbowed him in the ribs. That left Stan with The 1000 Year Old Red Couch which he was perfectly fine with.   
“I swear, if you two start making out, I’m kicking Bev out of here.” Stan jabbed the remote at Bev and Ben before aiming it at the TV and switching off the lights, returning to his one-person seat.   
The opening scene started and already Richie was talking.   
“Ok, so Marty’s kinda hot.”   
Eddie glared at him and turned back to the TV. Richie smirked and after a while, did the same.   
Mike came in a couple of minutes later and wedged himself in between the arm of the chair and Ben, fondly smiling at the couple snuggled together. He carefully put his bag down, most likely carrying healthy snacks as he knew Richie’s dorm only stocked soda and chips and nudged Ben to ask what had happened so far. Bev responded before Ben had the chance, taking out her phone and texting someone while doing so.   
The movie continued and Eddie attempted not to look at Richie. A couple of times he weakened and slipped a glance to find Richie being the most focused Eddie had ever seen him. And when Eddie’s position changed so he was slightly closer to Richie, there was no visible change in him. Until Eddie saw his hand gradually shift closer to where Eddie’s had was. Eddie suppressed a grin.   
Not even halfway through, Richie started talking again.   
“Marty’s mom is kinda hot too.”  
“You definitely have a type.”   
“What’s that?” Richie moved closer to hear Eddie’s reply.  
Eddie flushed but smoothed down his panic and raised an eyebrow.  
“Everyone.”   
Richie paused before shifting so he was facing Eddie, abandoning the movie completely.   
“See, Spaghetti, that’s not true. In actual fact-”   
The door lock clicked open and Bill stumbled in, cap in hand and with a bag of McDonald's food he promised. Everyone turned his way and started an ensemble of claps, whoops and hollers which Stan rolled his eyes at, sharing a head shake and sigh with Mike. Bill handed the orders out and then perched on the arm of Stan’s chair. Which was odd. There was a perfectly good seat next to Eddie and he still preferred to sit on not even an actual chair. Stan conveyed a questionable glance to Bill but it was followed with a smile which was even weirder; Eddie would’ve been killed if he’d done that. Eddie shot Bill a ‘?’ in the form of a facial expression to which Bill responded with a shrug and a meaningful glance at Bev. Eddie then, subtly as he could, leaned over Richie to give Bev a bewildered look. She just smirked and without a hint of remorse, pointed at Richie and mimed making out with someone and pointed at Eddie.   
Richie had, again, torn himself away from the movie and frowned at Eddie before glancing over at Bev but she quickly stopped pointing at him and smiled sweetly. Richie didn’t seem sure of what they were doing and eyed Eddie suspiciously, but turned back to the movie anyway. Eddie glared at Bev but she was already looking at the TV again.  
It was towards the end of the movie when Richie nudged Eddie’s leg. He looked down to see Richie's leg pressed against his with Richie’s hand facing upwards, his fingers spread open. He studied Richie’s face, his jaw set, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, but nothing seemed to change.   
If this wasn’t an invitation and was just coincidence, Eddie would die of embarrassment. But if it was an invitation and Eddie unknowingly declined it, Richie could never reach out again   
Eddie looked down at his hand once more, the drawn-out fingers, the dark nail polish, and scribbles of flowers curling around his palm. He remembered the day he helped Richie up in the corridor, taking his hand. He was hungover and flirty then. Now, he was sober and vulnerable. Still flirty and still the college kid who was drunk every other night but a different side of him that Eddie liked. He was starting to think he liked all sides of Richie Tozier.   
Gently, Eddie placed his palm onto Riche’s and intertwined their hands. He felt Richie relax slightly, oblivious that he was shifting closer to Eddie. They stayed like that until the film ended. And when it was time for Eddie to finally leave, Richie squeezed his hand tightly and gave him a smile Eddie had never seen on Richie. It gave him hope. 

~~~

On Sunday, Eddie had to go for a Student Body President Meeting. He expected it. He would finally see the other candidates. Not that he thought there was going to be any. He hadn’t seen any posters or badges or excess of commercial candy. Plus, plenty of people said they would vote for him.   
He dressed in a checked shirt and actual trousers. Eddie figured he may as well look the part. He moved around as silently as possible. The last time he even tried to shower at 8:45 am on a Sunday, he was pelleted with pencils, highlighters and whatever else Bill could find on his desk.   
He made his way to the Chancellor’s office, fiddling with the buttons on his cuffs, striding down the empty corridors. Confidently, he knocked on the door, practicing a formal smile.   
“Ah, Mr. Kaspbrak, do come in.” The Chancellor greeted him, opening the door wide enough the step in. Except. Another person was sitting there. The shirt was familiar. Eddie was partway through racking his brain to see where he remembered it when the person turned around, cringing hard.   
“I believe you’ve met Mr. Tozier?”   
Oh fucking no.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't been on in a while. Christmas n all that. I have a lot of coursework, especially Art related so bear with me. I hope you're all having a good morning/afternoon/evening/night. Ly xoxo

**Author's Note:**

> Hello beautiful person, thanks for reading this. It honestly means a lot to me. This will eventually be finished but will probably take a while because I'm bogged down with Art coursework. Please note that I've never actually been to an American college so I apologize if I get any details wrong. Currently, I love IT and I will try my very best to finish this, that's a promise. In terms of personal life, I should be going to sleep right now oops. Comments mean the world to me. Love you all xoxo


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